Near Thing
by Belen09
Summary: No great epic. A love story. And a not-so love story. (Dedicated to the writers who pen 'Enterprise' fiction - it can be a challenge, but you are inspiring!)
1. Chapter 1

Near Thing

No great epic. A love story. And a 'not so' love story . . .

OOOOO

Chapter One –

There was little that Malcolm Reed remembered from before his fifth birthday, save a nagging feeling that 'The Our Father', which he dutifully said each day as a Catholic school boy, really had more words. He would finish the prayer with his classmates – then have the distinct urge to say more.

(Years later – as a teenager – he realized that he must have 'picked up', probably prior to being baptized as Roman Catholic, the Protestant version of the prayer. The Martins, his mother's family, were staunch members of the Church of England, and before his father retired from being at sea, Malcolm thought he must have attended services with them.)

Oh, and oddly he did remember – at least he thought he did – something from being a very young child. As Malcolm got older, the memory – if was what it was – acquired a sort of golden hue, rather like 'tales of times gone by'.

OOOOO

He remembered thinking that he did not want to be stuck in his crib whilst being awake, not when there were things to do 'out there'. Mum called him, 'her little monkey', as Malcolm could quite deftly climb despite his lack of height over the edge of the railing of his crib, and plop – down on the floor. Then walk in one's booted nightclothes over to the door.

This particular time, the young adventurer was able to reach the door lever, and twisting it, entered a hallway which led to the room where his toys were. He liked to look at his picture books, especially about animals – and most of his stuffed animals were stored in this room too. (His Da' had given them to him – whoever Da' was – Mum said 'he was on a boat'. He had already figured out that Mum was not very good at explaining things, and he was well on his way to understanding 'how to read' and to judge for himself what things meant.)

The child made his way into the room where noise was coming from – he had not learned yet to make himself be quiet so as to surprise, but rather walked in, curious. A man (no, his Da' – he amended in his memory, according to Mum) was sitting in front of the television and hearing the approach of his wandering son, turned and said, "how did you get out of your crib?" Malcolm could tell that he wasn't angry, because he had a big smile on his face – and this made the toddler smile too. (Malcolm saw a picture of himself at this age, smiling . . . even now when his friends saw that particular grin they knew he had done something 'over the top'. )

Malcolm saw that there was a program on the television that had pictures of 'the big water.' (Now Mum had told him that there really wasn't water in the television, but only pictures of water; not like the bathtub where there really was water, and Malcolm liked to play with his toy boats, and rubber fishes.) The child liked to watch the television when there were nature programs, and he walked toward the screen and pointed. Da' took this to mean that he was curious about what was on, and said brightly, "I sail on a boat."

He figured that the two year-old could understand that – and Malcolm remembered that he did indeed understand and laughed with pleasure. His Da' was a sailor! (Malcolm remembered his Mum saying that the ocean was the biggest thing in the whole world, and reasoned at the time his Da' was so brave, which didn't match up to what the adult man thought later – but Malcolm believed it was because he was two at the time.) (Still it was a valid feeling at the time.)

"Are you hungry?" asked Da', who picked up his squiggly child – the boy was constantly in motion save when asleep. Mary had mentioned that the lad was active, but wasn't just physically, but he could see how intensely his son was learning about his world. "How about a peanut butter and jam sandwich? And milk to wash it down?" Malcolm remembered nodding his head, and what kind of food that was.

Da' handed his son a big person's cup – he grabbed it with both hands, careful as he could be as a two year old not to spill. Mum always made him drink out of a 'baby cup' though he thought he could handle a regular glass . . . and 'Oh, the sandwich!' When Mum made a peanut butter and jam sandwich, you could see the bread through the peanut butter and jam because Mum said she didn't want messes.

His Da' though knew the best way to make the treat and the sandwich was thick with both peanut butter and jam – only a little bit spilled that day – and Malcolm remembered forever that his Da' knew brilliantly how to make peanut butter and jam sandwiches . . . Mum returned later that day from a shopping trip, none the wiser of her son's meal.

OOOOOO

Soon after, Lieutenant Commander Michael Constable returned to duty aboard the HMS Neptune, and would not again see his family; He would be killed as a result of a terrorist attack on the Royal Naval vessel . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two –

HMS Neptune was the control and servicing vessel for a 'fleet' of twenty drone ships; capable of carrying four of the smaller unmanned craft in its hull for repair and maintenance, it also served as the 'nerve centre' for the control and guidance function for that fleet so vital for the modern Royal Navy. In the roughly one hundred years since the implementation of unmanned drone ships, more of the 'station-keeping' functions of manned vessels had been assumed by these ever-vigilant, electronic sailors, leading to the traditional role of the navies of Earth becoming redundant.

Britain's Royal Navy, however, - in keeping with its vaunted reputation – 'was not giving up without a fight' – and had convinced many of its former fellow Commonwealth partners that a combined Royal Naval service would be in everyone's best interest. Which was why not only was there a Royal Navy ship – HMS Neptune – in the waters off Australia, but that the technical abilities of said vessel of the 'highest order', keeping watch over the oceans which 'belonged' to another, though allied nation.

Over one hundred of the most intelligent people in the Royal Navy were stationed aboard, tasked with guiding and interpreting the data which was received from the unmanned craft – then commands given to direct the course of the craft in question. The 'drones' did not have official individual designations other than N (meaning from Neptune) and a number.

(Although a couple of the more frequent 'visitors' to the repair bays were given nicknames – one in particular – 'ruddy arse' – a made-up appellation in response to one particular lieutenant who blamed his own short-comings on the failings of the equipment, rather than his own poor seamanship. 'Ruddy' was the replacement word for 'Reed' as in Stuart Malcolm Reed – an officer quite 'unloved' by the enlisted crew aboard Neptune.)

This mission had been mostly uneventful until word was received via the Australian Intelligence Service that a group consisting of disaffected and terroristic anti-government criminals had formed a plan to attack some of the drone ships. Attacks on drone ships unfortunately were not uncommon; drones of any kind, whether land, air, or sea-based brought out for many people an almost atavistic reaction.

(One could trace the progression of this fear – long before the beginning of 'science fiction' – there was 'fantasy' – tales told to amuse both adults and children, featuring creatures controlled not by their own volition, but by others, usually for evil intent. 'Drones' were merely mechanical expressions of that dread.)

OOOOO

Drone ships were considered 'semi-submersible', with no crew to take 'into account' whilst afloat, the amount of 'superstructure' could be minimal, leading to the oft mistaken belief that a submarine boat had been seen trailing an observed target. It was only when the observer realized the 'stealth' design of the chance sighting that the correction would be made. Submariners were 'not amused' at the confusion, and even less impressed with the notion of drone submarines – 'biological drones' not withstanding . . .

The HMS Neptune was a catamaran, with four 'bays' for the drones in need of servicing to enter, wherein they would be repaired. If need be the drones could be hoisted up and made secure to the undercarriage of the lower deck of the ship. This enabled the vessel to use her advanced, 'state of the art' hydrodynamic engines made of the most modern ceramic composites available. (It had been discovered, in the latter part of the twenty-first century how to combine ceramic chemistry with that of the metallic – and form said composite in such a way as to enhance the 'flow-through' capabilities of the turbo engines that powered the control-command ship.)

That being said, the Neptune was still a ship floating on an ocean – which comprised something like three-fourths of the surface of the Earth, and seamanship skills were still of utmost importance for the mariner to complete his mission. While the invention of the airplane (and subsequent 'improvements') had forced a different emphasis upon sea power as a way to attain political ends, the practical matter was that patience was valued in the mindset of the mariner. The ocean had its own 'mind', and would not be rushed.

Unfortunately, Lieutenant Stuart Malcolm Reed did not understand nor have that patience.

OOOOO

(A.N. – Okay, I have a history degree and all this technical 'stuff' is just gobblygook. Honest.)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three –

(hapter ThreeSaid in a particular 'head voice') – 'Once upon a time, there was a man from a military family, who instead of becoming a soldier, became a mariner – not just any mariner, but good enough organizationally, and during a great war, that he was given the rank of admiral. Because he was so important to the victory, the admiral was required to attend the 'celebrations' despite being in ill health. Unfortunately, he died shortly after . . .

His son was also a mariner, gifted to follow in his father's path. And remarkably - also became an admiral, given great responsibility as his intelligence and service were rewarded. He too, had a son – at the time a lieutenant . . .'

While in a previous century and different family, in this narrative – after much tribulation, the lieutenant left the naval service and went into a different kind of service for his country – and was successful . . .)

Unfortunately as to the hopes of Stuart Malcolm Reed in another similar situation, this did not happen.

OOOOO

Malcolm Alexander Reed – the first admiral in the Reed family – was by all accounts, a remarkably 'canny' individual. People, who knew the man, swore that that he could look at a situation and pull miracles from thin air. While never an imposing figure, and prone to be a bit sarcastic, he was still given enough leeway in the chaos that was later called WWIII, that his decisions most certainly helped to assure victory for the 'winning' side. Unfortunately, he was also known for neglecting his health, and died shortly after attending the victory celebration.

His son, Alexander Stuart Reed, was not dissuaded from service in the Royal Navy – indeed he was imbued with the same ardour which had inspired the elder Reed. He understood the necessity for vigilance, and had brought to bear the resources of the fleet as represented by the various parts of the reconstructed Commonwealth to combat those who were not pleased with the status quo. And because he too, had talent in organization, and intelligence in such matters, he eventually was promoted to the rank of admiral. A rare honor for a father and son . . .

Some people, most notably the man himself, hoped that the grandson, Stuart Malcolm Reed would be of like ability and opportunity, and carry forth the mantle of the Admirals Reed, perhaps even to be named a Sea Lord – a great title rarely granted but still theoretically possible.

There were early indications that this was not to be. To put it bluntly, Stuart was a bully to his younger brother, Peter – although at school he was seen as good student, perhaps not brilliant, but acceptable enough. Then he would go home and be tired of being perfect, again to bully his brother. Their mum told Peter to respond in kind, but the younger child actually did understand and refused to retaliate, though the teachers at their school kept stating to him that 'he should be more like his older brother', and that was a bit much as Peter was well aware of his brother's temperament.

The older Stuart became, the less able he was to hide his bullying tendencies, and his family's reputation could only take him so far – he would be admitted into the navy, but it was up to himself, and his abilities to advance in his chosen profession – not a particularly promising outcome unfortunately.

OOOOO

When newly-minted Ensign Stuart Reed had been 'pushed out' into 'the senior service', he had been given an extra year to acquire the skills which many had seemingly inherited and were proficient in by the time they were teenagers. (Some of his instructors were considering recommending that he transfer to a land-based military, but wiser 'heads' pointed out that his main problem might not be seamanship at all . . .)

In point of fact the captain of the HMS Neptune, Phyllis Cartwright, had won a number of awards for her handling abilities of both powered and sail-driven craft previous to her formal training as a naval officer. She personally had hopes that 'the Reed boy' was just 'a late bloomer', and just needed exposure to the actual duties of shipboard life to 'awaken' what must be hidden deeply (in this case 'really hidden deeply') in what some had said was 'a blockhead bully'.

At first this seemed to work, Ensign Reed – though not the most skilled of sailors – did pick up the mission of the HMS Neptune with alacrity, and seemed quite keen to use the drone ships in their intended duties as guardians of the sea lanes for the merchant vessels that still plied their trade in the southeastern Pacific. And within a couple of years he was promoted to lieutenant, making some apparently good friends among the crew, including that of a fellow lieutenant – Michael Constable.

(Constable came into 'the service' the year that Reed should have – and had met and married the daughter of a senior Royal Marine officer, Mary Madeline Martin. Possessed of a fair complexion and abundant dark hair, she seemed to have found a 'soulmate' in the similarly quiet, young naval officer. He had a true genius for innovation in dispatching the drone ships, using complex patterns that often 'caught out' targets – and as an electronics engineer, he could fix almost any guidance system . . . his only fault was that he was quite shy in nature. But this was alleviated by the presence of his young wife, with whom he was clearly in love.)

Oddly enough, at least for Stuart Reed – he seemed to find in Michael Constable someone who despite being more experienced did not 'trigger' Reed's sense of always being inferior. (In some way, bullies feel 'less' normal than those they bully – less smart, less attractive, less whatever.) It seemed as if, for once, Stuart Reed had a friend and might, if not develop into a great naval officer, would at least be a competent one. That was until the accident . . .

OOOOO


End file.
